


Little Shop of Horrors

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-11
Updated: 2002-02-11
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11347212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Little Shop of Horrors

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Little Shop of Horrors

## Little Shop of Horrors

#### by Dr Ruthless

Title: Little Shop of Horrors  
Author: Dr Ruthless  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website:   
Category: Unclassified  
Pairing (Primary): Unclassified  
Pairing(s) (Secondary):   
Crossover Fandom (if any):   
Crossover Info (if any):   
Other Pairing Info:   
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers: <snort>  
Permission to Archive:   
Series or Sequel/Prequel:   
Notes: Rated NC-17 for cruelty to nature.   
Dedicated to gardeners everywhere.  
Warnings:   
Disclaimer:   
Summary: 

* * *

Little Shop of Horrors, with help from Dr. Ruthless 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

On the twenty-third day of the month of September in an early year of a decade not too long before our own, the human race suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence. And this terrifying enemy surfaced, as such enemies often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places. 

As a heavy rain falls on Skid Row, We see Crystal Langly, Ronette Frohike, and Chiffon Byers, clad in short, tight satin. They begin to sing. Uh, no, that isn't the terrifying new enemy, though you can be forgiven for thinking so. 

"Little shop, little shoppa horrors.  
Little shop, little shoppa terror.  
Call a cop. Little shoppa horrors.  
No, oh, oh, no-oh! 

Little shop, little shoppa horrors.  
Bop sh'bop, little shoppa terror.  
Watch 'em drop! Little shoppa horrors.  
No, oh, oh, no-oh! 

Shing-a-ling, what a creepy thing   
to be happening!  
Shang-a-lang, feel the sturm   
and drang in the air. 

Sha-la-la, stop right where you are.   
Don't you move a thing.  
You better (tellin' you, you better)   
Tell your mama somethin's gonna get her She better (ev'rybody better)   
Beware! 

Little shop, little shoppa horrors.  
Bop sh-bop, you'll never stop the terror. Little shop, little shoppa horrors.  
No, oh, oh, no, oh, oh, no, oh, oh, no!" 

As the terrible trio sing, they file into a dilapidated flower shop, where we meet Mr. Spender - the flower shop proprietor, for the first time. He's reading a newspaper called 'The Skid Row Herald,' whose headline reads "UNEXPECTED TOTAL ECLIPSE- End of the World?" 

He's not the most attractive sight in his dirty wife-beater singlet, his nicotined fingers holding a Morley as he scratches his belly and leers at the pin up on page three. He doesn't seem to see our intrepid threesome as they file through his store, and the title song ends as the warbling trio descend to the flower shop cellar where we meet Alex... 

This is Skid Row, and the young man is sitting in the shadows cast by a single, fly blown light bulb. (How many G-men does it take to change a lightbulb? Well, only one, if he's standing in the G-spotlight.) 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

As the camera pans out of Alex's basement and back into the street, we find ourselves suddenly immersed in the decaying urban atmosphere of Skid Row its sights, sounds, and its inhabitants. Even though you know that every person you see has an intriguing story, this movie will focus on Alex. 

He's a handsome boy, although a trifle scruffy. Long legs are encased in tatty Levis, and he's got a stained sweater on. The thrift-store chic doesn't disguise the beauty that shines through, though. Cheekbones, brilliant eyes with lampblack lashes, mouth curved in a secret smile, and grace. grace that catches the throat as he rises to ascend the stairs. 

Treading on Chiffon's foot as he passes, apparently unaware of their presence, he mounts the rickety stairs and goes outside, where, as always, the people of Skid Row are singing their hearts out. 

"In government you cater to a million jerks. Uptown you're messengers and   
mailroom clerks  
eating all your lunches at the   
hot dog carts.  
The bosses take your money   
And they break your hearts. 

Uptown you cater to a million whores.  
You disinfect terrazzo on their   
bathroom floors.  
Your morning's tribulation,  
afternoon's a curse  
And five o'clock is even worse" 

Alex listens for a while, and then, suddenly, impossibly, he breaks into song. 

"Poor! All my life I've always been poor. I keep asking God what I'm for,  
and he tells me "Gee, I'm not sure  
sweep that floor, kid."  
Oh, I started life as an orphan,   
a child of the street   
Here on skid row.  
He took me in, gave me shelter, a bed, Crust of bread and a job  
Treats me like dirt, calls me a slob,   
Which I am.   
So I live in DC That's my home address. I live DC Where my life's a mess.  
I live DC Where depressions' jes' Status Quo. Down on Skid Row 

Someone show me a way to get outa here, 'cause I constantly pray I'll get outa here Please, won't somebody say I'll get outa here Someone gimme my shot or I'll rot here." 

We can see that there are tears in the brilliant eyes, and for a moment, we weep with him. Even the Lone Gungirls are now dressed in identical yellow slickers. 

For a moment, Alex is lost in introspection dreaming about what he could become, if he could get away from his sorry life, and then, magically, his brow clears, and the music changes. The Gungirls give it all they've got. 

"Da-doo," they sing. Alex smiles brilliantly, and begins to lay some exposition on us. 

"I was walkin' in the wholesale flower district that day and I passed by this place where this old Chinese man he sometimes sells me weird and exotic cuttings, 'cause he knows, you see, that strange plants are my hobby." 

"Da da da da da da-doo," carol the Gungirls, who are now, for whatever reason, dressed as geishas. Alex turns to look at them, before shaking his head in frank disbelief and returning to his exposition. 

"He didn't have anything unusual there that day, so I was just about to, ya know, walk on by, when suddenly, and without warning, there was this total eclipse of the sun." 

At this point, the scene fades, Mark Snow music is cued, and the credits roll. 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

As we return to the movie, we are agog to find out what happens to nice young Alex the apprentice florist, so without further ado, we'll return to his set piece. 

"It got very dark and there was this strange sound like something from another world." 

"Da-doo," sing the trio. They've been expecting this. It's another conspiracy; they know that if they just continue to wear colorful clothing and warble tunefully, people will forget they are there. This is of course how they get most of the contents of their paper. 

Alex frowns at the interruption and continues to tell us all about what's on his mind. "And when the light came back this weird plant was just sitting there, just, you know, stuck in, among the zinnias. Walter, I called it. I coulda sworn it hadn't been there before, but the old Chinese man sold it to me anyways, for a dollar ninety-five." 

As Alex finishes his monologue, the camera pans around to the window of Spender's florist store. There, in the window, is a plant. It's not just any plant. For a start, it's wearing wire-rims, and there's a sour, dyspeptic aura about its calyx. (am I allowed to say calyx here?) 

Passing through into the store, Alex gathers up the little plant in its pot, just as the door bursts open and a man enters. 

He's dressed in a silk Armani suit, and he's elegant as all get out. He sees Alex with the plant, and flashes a badge. 

"FBI," says our designer-clad vision, tersely. "Special Agent Fox Mulder. I'm investigating the possible existence of aliens on this planet, and I want to ask you a few questions about it." 

Alex studies him for a minute or two, and then frowns. 

"Well, it's almost time for Walter I call it Walter to be fed, so you had better be quick." He gestures for Mulder to follow him down into his dilapidated basement. 

Once down there, he places Walter on the table and begins to water him. Walter wilts. As Alex starts to panic, Mulder is pacing, asking questions. "Do you now, or have you ever worked for a shadowy black ops agency?" 

"Huh? What are you babbling about? I work for Mr. Spender and his beautiful, but mean, daughter, Marita," said Alex, confused. "They let me live here as long as I work like a dog and take care of all the plants. I have a green thumb." Alex held up the offending digit for Mulder to inspect, and Mulder made a face. 

"Don't you think you should get shots for that?" he asked the strange but attractive young man. He can't take his eyes off Alex, and no wonder. Alex radiates the promise of sex from every line in his sleek, ill-clad body. 

The strange little plant thinks so too, because it coughs theatrically, and raises itself feebly from the table where it sits, wilting, only to slam itself back down in an attitude of near death. Mulder suddenly sees it, and turns to watch it, ecstatic realization on his face as he contemplates an extreme possibility. 

"What the hell is that?" he asks Alex. 

"It's Walter. I have to feed him or he'll die," says Alex, looking at the plant anxiously. 

"Go right ahead," says Mulder, flopping into a chair that sends up a cloud of dust in nervous protest to unaccustomed use. "Don't mind me." 

"Well, all right," says Alex, blushing, and begins to unfasten the 501s that he's wearing. 

"What are you doing?" Mulder is somewhat taken aback, and no wonder. Alex has removed his penis from the faded blue jeans, and now presents it to the plant, that seems to perk up as if by magic, zeroing in on the erection as if on a wire, the small plant began to suck, while Alex stood looking faintly embarrassed. "What on earth." finished Mulder, somewhat disconcerted. 

"It's the only way I can keep him alive," panted Alex. "Don't ask me how I found out. It isn't a pretty tale." 

"God," whispered Mulder. "I wish I could do that." 

"You can. Be my guest. Fifteen orgasms in one weekend is a bit much, even for me," whispered Alex, throatily. 

"Thanks," groaned Mulder, dropping to his knees, shoving the plant to the floor and taking Alex's dick into his full, pouting mouth. As Mulder gives Alex a blow job the like of which he's never before experienced, he can't help singing to his plant. 

"I've given you southern exposure   
To get you to thrive.  
I've pinched you back hard,   
Like I'm s'posed ta.   
You're barely alive.  
I've tried you at levels of moisture   
From desert to mud.  
I've given you grow-lights   
And mineral supplements.   
What do you want from me- Blood? 

I've given you sunlight.   
I've given you rain.  
Looks like you're not happy,   
'Less I get out my dick.  
I'll come all over you   
If that'll appease.  
Now please-oh please-grow for me!" 

From Mulder unused to people bursting into song while he was giving them a blow job there came a grunt, and then it was all over, Alex was groaning and jerking, and Mulder showed trickles of glistening, thick white at the corner of his mouth, while on the floor, the plant pouted and sulked. 

~~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

One day he was pushing a broom, with nothing in his news but gloom and doom, then he lit a fuse. and give him room! Stand aside and watch that Mothah blow. 

Uh. no. We mean Alex, at this point. Not Mulder. 

Explosion! Bang! Kerboom! Don't it go to show ya never know? 

Alex was in a funk; he was number zero. Whod'a thunk he'd become a hero? Just a punk, he was a forgotten so-and-so. Then one day- Crash! Kerplunk! Don't it go to show ya never know? 

All the world used to screw him - Biff-wham-pow! Now they interview him, and they clamor to put his remarks On the air. All the world used to hate him; now they're startin' t'appreciate him, and all because of that strange, ugly little plant over there. 

Observe him! Here's a chap - everything is landing in his lap.. 

"I just started to jerk off something every red-blooded American male does all the time - and in a snap something out of Edgar Allen Poe has happened. 

The three lovely Gungirls appear, ready to sing us over the edge into insanity. They are wearing bikinis and towels something that really needs censorship. 

"Zam! Kazap! Don't it go to show ya never know?" they sing, and from somewhere comes a hail of rotten eggs, tomatoes, and copies of the Twilight Zone. 

As they throw up their hands and run screaming, M. C. G. B. Spender shambles into our view, scratching himself. He catches sight of our hero and rushes forward, eagerly, to put his arm around Alex. 

"How would you like to be my son? How would you like to be my own adopted boy?" he asks, sliding an arm around Alex in a manner that seems to disturb his young protg. 

I never liked him much before, he thinks, but count the cash that's in the drawer. I've got no choice- I'm much too poor. 

Aloud, he says, "Say yes." 

"What for?" asks Alex, wide eyed. 

"Alex, I want to be your dad," smiles Spender, sharklike. "I'll gladly treat you Like my blood and my own flesh." 

"Like Ozzie Nelson, Dave and Rick?" asks Alex, eager now. All he's ever wanted was to be accepted. 

"Like Honey Fitz and take your pick," says Spender with a strange, calculating expression on his face. 

"Then kiss me quick, I'll be your son," chokes Alex, flinging himself at Spender, who sidesteps rather smartly. 

"Don't make me sick; just be my son," he grins, and Alex sniffles emotionally. 

"Spender & Son sounds great - Three words with the ring of fate," whispers Alex, almost overcome with joy. 

"So say you'll incorporate with me," says Spender, mentally counting the wealth that will come his way if he gets his hands on that plant of Alex's. "A florist's dream come true - Spender and his boychik, you- What business we'll do for Interflora." 

Alex turns and spins in an ecstasy of newfound familial bliss. "In trouble sickness and in health," he sings. 

"We'll share the plant and share the wealth," responds Spender. "I'll call my lawyer," he adds. 

"Call me son," whispers Alex. "Spender & Son, that's that. Officially I'm your brat." 

"Consider the matter closed and done," grins Spender, the dollar signs glowing in his eyes. "Now to the world let's stick our Senior and Junior shtick through thin and through thick, through sloppy and slick, Through kiss and through kick - Spender & Son!" 

Arm around the impressionable young man's shoulders, Spender leads Alex away. 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

As they leave, a huge, black Harley Davidson drives up, and a small, slender figure dressed in black leaps from it. She's dressed in black leather, and as she hops off the bike, she throws her huge cigar to the ground, shakes out her bell of red hair, and struts to the door. 

"When I was younger, just a bad little kid My mama noticed funny things I did  
Like shooting puppies with a B.B. gun  
I'd poison guppies and when I was done  
I'd find a pussycat and bash in its head That's when my mama said." 

Crystal, Ronette and Chiffon pop their heads out from behind the wall and in perfect, three part harmony, they sing, "What did she say?" 

"She said, 'Dana, I think someday You'll find a way to make your natural tendencies pay.'" She laughs happily and strangles a passing puppy as she begins to sing. 

"You'll be a dentist  
You have a talent for causing things pain Girl, be a dentist   
People will pay you to be inhumane  
Your temperament's wrong for a convent  
And teaching would suit you still less  
Girl, be a dentist   
You'll be a success" 

As Dana Scully, DDS enters her private torture chamber, we see that there is a patient in her chair. Ronette hands her a huge pair of pliers, whilst Chiffon and Crystal hold down her vict. er. patient. 

"Here she is, folks the leader of the plaque!" cries Crystal, gaily, and Scully takes a whiff of the laughing gas before stooping to start her depredations on the poor patient's mouth. 

"Watch her suck up that gas!" says Chiffon, admiringly. 

"Oh, my god!" screams the patient. "She's a dentist and she'll never ever be any good. Who wants their teeth done by the Marquise de Sade? Oh that hurts! I'm not numb!" 

"Oh, shut up," says Scully with a smile that promises no good. "Open wide; here I come! I am your dentist, and I enjoy the career that I picked. I am your dentist and I get off on the pain I inflict. When I start extracting those molars you girls will be screaming like holy rollers, and though it may cause my patients distress, somewhere in heaven above me, I know that my mama's proud of me, 'Cause I'm a dentist- and a success. Say ah! Now spit." 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

Outside, on the noxious sidewalk, Fox Mulder is watching as Alex goes off with Spender, and Dana goes to give a root canal to anyone that will stand still for it. Alone at last, he raises his own voice in song. 

"I know Alex is the greatest  
But I'm dating a semi-sadist  
So I've got a black eye  
And my arm's in a cast.  
Still, that Alex's a cutie  
Well, if not, he's got inner beauty  
And I dream of a place   
Where we could be together at last 

A matchbox of our own  
A fence of real chain link,  
A grill out on the patio  
Disposal in the sink  
A washer and a dryer and an ironing machine In a tract house that we share  
Somewhere that's green. 

He rakes and trims the grass  
He loves to mow and weed  
I cook like Betty Crocker   
And I look like Donna Reed  
There's plastic on the furniture   
To keep it neat and clean  
In the Pine-Sol scented air   
Somewhere that's green 

Between our frozen dinner   
And our bedtime, nine-fifteen  
We snuggle watchin' Lucy   
On our big, enormous twelve-inch screen 

I'm his December Bride  
He's Father, he Knows Best  
Our kids watch Howdy Doody   
As the sun sets in the west  
A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine 

Far from Skid Row  
I dream we'll go  
somewhere that's green." 

Poor Mulder. Someone needs to take him to one side and tell him the facts of life. However, he's still alone, nursing his black eye, as we leave him behind. 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

Meanwhile, down in Alex's basement, Walter has grown, and he's getting restless. He's got a huge head like a cabbage, and his wire-rimmed glasses have grown along with it. From his vegetable mouth emits a deep, demanding voice. 

"Feed me!" he says. 

There's no reply. 

"Feed me!" he hollers, louder now. 

"Feed me!" and he's screaming now, his voice rocking walls and rattling the dirty windows. 

"Feed me, Alex. Feed me all night long. That's right, boy, you can do it. Feed me, Alex. Feed me all night long, 'Cause if you feed me, Alex, I can grow up big and strong" 

"Come on, Alex, don't be a putz. Trust me and your life will surely rival King Tut's. Show a little 'nitiative, work up the guts and you'll git it." 

"I don't know," whispers Alex, who's beginning to look somewhat unhealthy. "I don't know. I have so, so many strong reservations. Should I go and perform masturbation?" 

Walter grins a leafy grin. "Think about a room at the Ritz; wrapped in velvet, covered in glitz. A little nookie gonna clean up your zits And you'll git it." 

"It's that Fox that I want to git," whispers Alex. "That bitch Dana treats him so mean. She beats him up and whacks him with his cell phone. How I'd love to take him away to a place where we'd both be safe." 

"Baby, you're getting it," bellows Walter. "If you want a rationale It isn't very hard to see. Stop and think it over, pal, the dame sure looks like plant food to me." 

"She's so nasty, treatin' her rough, smackin' him around and always talkin' so tough," muses Alex. "You need body fluids and she's got more than enough." 

"So go git it!" howled Walter 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

Scully is sucking on the nitrous oxide when Alex enters the dental surgery. 

"Now, do it now, while she's gassing herself to a palpable stupor. The timing's ideal and the moment is super, To ready and fore and blow the sick bitch away." Alex shivers, face pale as he considers the task that lies ahead of him. "Now, do it now. just a flicker of pressure right here, right here on the trigger, and Fox won't have to put up with that bitch for another day." 

Scully has seen him, and she's sauntering towards him, sniffing on her nitrous oxide and giving cackles of laughter as she comes. "Don't be fooled if I should giggle like a sappy, happy dope. It's just the gas; it's got me high, but don't let that fact deceive you. Any moment I could die. Though I giggle and I chortle, bear in mind I'm not immortal. Why this whole thing strikes me funny, I don't know- 'cause it really is a rotten way to go" 

What we have here is an ethical dilemma, thinks Alex. 'Less I help her get the mask removed, she doesn't have a prayer. True the gun was never fired, but the way events transpired, I can finish her with simple laissez faire. Fascinated, he watches Dana struggling to remove her mask, and failing miserably. 

"It's just the gas; it turns me on, but don't let my mirth deceive you. Any moment I'll be gone. All my vital signs are failing 'cause the oxide I'm inhaling makes it difficult as hell to catch my breath." Scully staggers and catches at Alex, slowly slipping down his front. 

"Are you dumb or hard of hearing? Or relieved my end is nearing? Are you satisfied? I laughed myself to..." She flops to the floor. 

"Death," says Alex, looking down at the still body. Then, he raised his chin, brushed back his hair, and then gathers up the slumped body to take back to Walter. 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~~ 

Fox is standing outside by the Harley, when Alex returns from feeding Walter. Face to face at last, Alex realizes what's been missing from his life. Slowly, quietly, he walks towards Fox, who seems lost in a brown study as he contemplates the motorbike and fingers the plaster cast on his wrist. As Alex begins to sing to him, at first, he is confused. 

"Lift up your head  
Wash off your mascara  
Here, take my Kleenex  
Wipe that lipstick away  
Show me your face   
Clean as the morning  
I know things were bad  
But now they're okay 

"Suddenly Alex   
Is standing beside you  
You don't need no makeup  
Don't have to pretend  
Suddenly Alex  
Is here to provide you  
Sweet understanding  
Alex's your friend" 

Alex paused, and Fox gave him a sultry look, as he sang back, 

"Nobody ever   
Treated me kindly  
Daddy abused me  
Mama was tight  
I'd meet a man and   
I'd follow him blindly  
He'd snap his fingers   
Me, I'd say "right" 

"Suddenly Alex   
Is standin' beside me  
He don't give me orders  
He don't condescend  
Suddenly Alex   
Is here to provide me  
Sweet understanding  
Alex's my friend" 

Suddenly, just as the two lovers were drifting into a clinch, Walter's voice was heard from the basement where he had just devoured Scully. 

"He's got your number now." 

Alex's chin went up. "Oh, my God. Mr. Spender. I bet." 

"He knows just what you've done," sang Walter. "You got no place to hide; you got nowhere to run." 

"Help me, Fox. Spender wants to get rid of me so that he can keep Walter for himself. He can see that Walter is extra-terrestrial, and thinks he can sell his story to the tabloids if he can just get me out of the way." Alex is really flustered now, as he hears Walter's dread tones from the basement. 

"He knows your life of crime; I think it's suppertime." 

"What is that?" asks Fox. 

"It's. It's Walter. He's an alien," says Alex, terrified that Mulder won't believe him. 

"Kewl!" breathes Fox, reverently. 

Together, they go and feed Spender to the plant. 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

With Spender's disappearance, Alex finds himself the center of attention. People are calling him. People are asking him to endorse things. Money is coming his way. 

"Hey, Alex Krycek, you prince you. My name is Bernstein, I'm with N.B.C. I came down here to convince you to do a weekly T.V. show for me. Alex Krycek's Gardening Tips for half an hour on Saturdays at four. T.V.'s first home-gardening program. You'll make a mint and our ratings will soar." 

"Forget the cable we sent you. It's nice to meet you, the pleasure is yours. Now let my firm represent you. We want to book you on lecturing tours. College campus, Rotary Club, the kind of bookings my office can do. Show the plant, then talk, answer questions. It's educational, lucrative too" 

"My future's starting," thinks Alex. "I've got to let it. Stick with that plant, and gee, my bank account will thrive." 

For a moment, he's happy, imagining himself with tons of money, in the little white home that Fox dreamed about. Then, as suddenly as it has come, his dream bursts. "What am I saying? No way! Forget it! It's much too dangerous to keep the plant alive. I take these offers, that means more killing. Who knew success would come with messy, nasty strings? I sign these contracts, and that means I'm willing to keep on doing bloody, awful, evil things!" 

He grins, contemplating life as it might become if he permits himself to be an assassin. Money, sex, leather clothes. but no. 

No! There's only so far you can bend. No! No! This nightmare must come to an end No! No! You've got no alternative, Alex, old boy. Though it means you'll be broke again and unemployed, it's the only solution, It can't be avoided -The vegetable must be destroyed! 

But then there's Fox, lovely Fox. If life were tawdry and impoverished as before, he might not like me; he might not want me without my alien plant. He might not love me anymore. 

"They say the meek shall inherit - You know the book doesn't lie. It's not a question of merit; not demand and supply. You'll make a fortune; we swear it, if on this fact you rely. You know the meek are gonna get What's comin' to 'em by and by." 

"Get out!" screams Alex, at last. "Get out and leave me alone." 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

Fox is pacing. His couch is uncomfortable and his bed is covered in stuff. He's in a bad way. 

"I couldn't sleep. I took a Sominex but voices in my head kept saying Go to Alex, talk to Alex. I drank some tea, but, gee, the feeling wasn't gone. Alex, sweetheart, tell me, darling. What's been going on?" 

He hears a voice a voice he thinks he knows, and runs to look out of his window. Shadows on the blind in the basement over the road make him gasp, and he's out of his apartment and down to street level very fast indeed. The plant. 

As he enters Alex's basement, Walter smiles a green and frondly smile. 

"Hey Foxy baby, hello  
You're lookin' cute as can be  
You're lookin' mighty sweet  
No, it ain't Alex- it's me!  
Your friendly Walter, who  
Though a plant, is talking to you 

Come on and give me a drink  
Hey, handsome G-man, be nice  
Sure do, I'll drink it straight  
Don't need no glass or no ice  
Don't need no twist of lime" 

Mulder has never been able to resist a walk on the wild side, and he picks up the watering can, walks towards Walter's pot. 

"And now it's suppertime!" 

When Alex bursts in with his axe, ready to do battle, it's too late. All that is left of his lovely Fox are the shiny shoes that Walter is just hawking up. 

"Noooo." Alex hurls himself at Walter, his axe flying as he tries manfully to kill the creature that has ruined his life, but before too long, all that can be heard is the sound of chomping jaws, a scream, and then a satisfied belch. 

~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~ 

The Gungirls are back, and now they are vindicated. Their paper has the exclusive on the conspiracy that they've uncovered. 

Excerpt from the front page of the "Lone Gunman." 

"Subsequent to the events you have just witnessed - similar events in cities across America - events which bore a striking resemblance To the ones you have just seen - began occurring. Subsequent to the events you have just witnessed, Unsuspecting jerks from Maine to California Made the acquaintance of a new breed of flytrap and got sweet-talked into feeding it blood. 

Thus the plants worked their terrible will, finding jerks who would feed them their fill, and the plants proceeded to grow and grow- and grow and begin what they came here to do - which was essentially to eat Cleveland and Des Moines and Peoria and New York - and where you live! 

They may offer you fortune and fame  
Love and money and instant acclaim  
But whatever they offer you  
Don't feed the plants 

They may offer you lots of cheap thrills Fancy condos in Beverly Hills  
But whatever they offer you  
Don't feed the plants 

Look out! Here comes Walter!  
Look out! 

Hold your hat and hang on to your soul  
Something's coming to eat the world whole If we fight it we've still got a chance But whatever they offer you  
Don't feed the plants. 

* * *

Sue aka Dr. Ruthless 

<> ICQ#14783367 <Alyosha303 on AIM>

My friends would follow me anywhere, but only out of morbid curiosity. 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Dr Ruthless 


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